The Longest Day - D-Day
by We Did It For The Glory
Summary: A war is a war, an invasion was an invasion but this day was the longest ever lived and fought in. The blood that stained hands and the deaths that will follow some around forever all to stop WW2, all in hope to live another day of freedom.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is like a Beta I suppose, I wrote some Hetalia fanfic ages ago and it was alright so I figured I publish to first chapter. If people seem to like it I'll post some more. It is pretty short and yeah but I'm taking a break from writing so I figured I'd just post stuff I've already written. **

**This is a Female Scotland (because why not?) pretty much the female version of the usual Scotland. **

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As weapons were cleaned, checked and loaded for battles five countries looked at each other with the same worried eyes.

Green eyes glanced at each other and each gave a firm nod, ready for the battle but not ready to come to understand how many soldiers they would lose.

Scotland was the first voice to speak as she looked around the room. "We all know the plan."

England sighed. "Yes but are we actually ready?"

"Aye, as ready as we'll ever be." Scotland said, raking an anxious hand through auburn hair. "I'll have your back in this fight, Guid look." England smiled slightly as she began to descend into an accent she tried to desperately to control yet realised this was her nerves showing.

"Ma petite, do you think we can win?" France asked her.

"A divin't na, A really don't." She said as she rubbed her eyes with a white gloved hand that would be soon stained with blood. "We can only do our best."  
America rubbed his cheek. "I think we can win." He said, though his actions didn't prove his confidence.

"It is possible." England said, straightening the tie of his military clothes. "If we give it our all, how can we lose?"

"Ye sound like ye've never been in a war before lad." Scotland said, leaning on the table with clenched fists. "How do ye think ma da lost against the likes of ye?" She asked. "He just wasn't good enough."

"You can't think like that." Canada said in a quiet voice. "You're strong Ally, you'll win."

"Aye, I guess but..." She sighed. "We'll fight, if a die, at least a die fighting and for what's right." She glanced at her younger brother. "A ain't taking any bullets for ye."

"I didn't expect you to."  
Poland laughed and smiled at them. "We won't lose; they're just not cool enough to win."

"Aye, what can weaklings de?"

"We'll win this." America said.

"It's as good as ours." England agreed.

"We'll do our best and win." Canada said.

France nodded with a smile. "When we win petite, you must come stay a day in France."

"Won't you be busy trying to make money from the side lines?" England asked dryly.

"... In a couple years?"

"No."

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**Hope you enjoyed, I figure I might post another chapter soon because this is way short but I'll probably give it a once over fist. Just to note, I've wrote the 'Scottish' words as how they sound to me. I don't live too far away from there and I can fake the accent but I have no idea how you would go about spelling most of them. I figured that it couldn't be too different from a Geordie accent so I kind of based it a wee bit off that. So we may end up with a Scottish Geordie... we'll never understand a word...**


	2. Operation Bodyguard

**I was reading over this and I didn't realise I had made Scotland quite so... I don't really know how to put it. I'm just thankful I wrote this as chapters. From what I've read and edited, it looks like I introduced each character individually before any conflict happens (I wrote this in summer last year, July time ish for those who aren't in England) . I haven't actually finished it but I had got up to the landing at the Normandy Coast. It's generally just her reactions towards different characters and using them to show her past and describing her slightly.**

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Scotland watched as men loaded into planes. She knew the plan, it was almost perfect but somewhere inside she knew that some of these men would lose their lives.

It was a good plan, a great one even. They would be part of an airborne invasion to distract Hitler and Germany, to convince them that the landing would be to the north at Pas-de-Calais, when truly it was at the Normandy coast.

It was a distraction but every action had an equal or greater consequence. America had supplied many P-51 mustangs and many pilots, adding to the possibility of success. They would strike hard and fast, dropping radar reflecting aluminium strips (chaff) to confuse the Axis Power, to make them believe an invasion fleet was fast approaching Pas-De-Calais. Of course this plan had flaws, there was the possibility that the German army could distinguish chaff from an actual invasion fleet but it was a chance that had to be taken, the only option they had.

"They'll be fine." A voice said from behind her. She turned her head slightly to see America grinning and straightening his brown bomber jacket before flashing her a thumbs up.

"Aye, a na." She said. "A seen ye've changed into yer uniform, do ye plan to gan with them?"

America shook his head. "Nah, I'm going with the landing party."

"Aye, a figured as much." She sighed and looked up to the stars. "They say when a hero dies their souls becomes one of the stars, do ye consider these men to be hero's?"

America remained silent for a while before nodding slowly. "They're risking their lives to protect others; they fight for the freedom of those who cannot... Yeah, they are heroes."

Scotland smiled slightly. "Aye, it just helps they're helping to crush Germany a wee bit." Her smile darkened but the dropped. "A wonder if a'll pass in this battle."

"We're too young to die." America said flashing her his usual grin.

"Ye do realise a'm older than Artie, right?" She asked. "A'm his older sis."

"Really?" America asked as his brown creased slightly. "He just seems way old."

"A raised the wee bairn." She said rolling her eyes. "Damn a grew up to quick, was only a wee lassy for three years." Her voice trailed off as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Either way, we're about to gan to battle."

"We'll win, become heroes and everything will be fine." America said.

"Some people divin't want to be heroes, they just wanna keep their freedom." Scotland said, sending him a cold glare. "All heroes of Scotland past seem to die gruesomely."

America didn't seem to hear her or notice how the atmosphere had darkened as he threw his arm over her slender shoulders and began to watch the men prepare for launch. "You're about the same size as England." He stated.

"Aye..." She said glaring at an aircraft with terrifying green eyes.

"What's up with you and England anyway, he doesn't seem to like you all that much." He asked, still persisting to keep his arm on the pissed Scotland.

"He doesn't like anyone too much." She responded coldly. "Aye but he's still my wee brother and a still have to look after the brat."

"How come he refers to you as his big bro?"

"How come ye divin't shut up?" She responded quickly.

He removed his arm looking extremely hurt and shocked, once believing Scotland to be much nicer than England only to realise she had his, or he had her mean streak.

"... If ye really wanna na, my da called me his wee laddy... A really doubt that man knew I'm female." She shrugged. "They'll be launching soon."

They both looked to the grey aircrafts and the men doing their launch procedures. Some looked calm, others worried but all confident and hopeful. Mechanics ran around, quickly giving the planes a once over before running out of their way.

"10 seconds before launch." A voice boomed out of a loud speaker.

Scotland uncrossed her arms and gave the pilots a salute to all which saluted back. She smiled a genuine smile then left to go to the safety area and watch the planes take off. America followed, and turned to look at the planes.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One." The voice counted down. The planes began to launch, every one speeding down the runway and lifting into the sky as if the air itself was lifting them. They vanished quickly, only a small light could be seen twinkling like a star before it was turned off and the sky seemed to perish into darkness.

"War doesn't determine who is right – only who is left." Scotland quoted aloud as she turned and walked away.

"What's that supposed to mean? We're the good guys!" America shouted after her.

"Well, I can't wait to see Germany beg for his life." She called back to him.

America stopped dead in his tracks. "You can't kill him, we're the good people, and we need to give him another chance like heroes do."

"... I can't wait to see Italy beg for his life either, not like he did much..." She muttered to herself before calling back to America. "Who said I was going to kill him? I was only going to torture him."

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**This one is much longer than the other one, something like twice the size. The chapters do get gradually longer as I gradually got into writing it. I figure even if only a couple people read it I'll still post it, better than hanging somewhere in my ever filling document folder never to be seen again. Anyway I hope you enjoyed, I've enjoyed re reading it, it's like a whole new fan fiction because I have no memory beyond yesterdays lunch and I've spent a lot of time on other things, like my other fanfic and ignoring that... and college work... and normal work... but it's the weekend and I'm free... to a point because I have so much stuff to do.**


	3. The Weather

**England is kinda OOC, but I think in account of the war and fast approaching battle he wouldn't want to be the total dick his is. **

**I'm not sure if the events are in the right order but I don't think it really matters, it seems to work either way.**

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England looked over a report of the weather frowning. Only 10 days each month were suitable to cross the English Channel and a day near the full moon would be needed for it to illuminate their way but the weather was bad... really bad.

He grumbled something as he considered his other options but found he would also need the spring tides to create the deepest water possible to help avoid the defences the Germans had set up.

He heard the touch of a mug hit the desk next to him lightly and saw that Scotland had placed a cup of tea beside him.

"Drink it." She said as she took the report from him and looked it over. "The air force has already left." She stated. "The weather is better, not by much but the Germans will take a wee bit of comfort with the bad weather and relax their defences."  
England nodded but still looked concerned. "Yes but is it safe for us to cross?" He asked.

"I divint na but is it safe for our countries to not?" She responded. "We're ex-pirates lad, we've braved this sort of weather loads, and we'll be fine."

"Our old boats are much different from the war machines we're using now." England said in frustration.

"They float, they're the same." She responded with a shrug. "Just think about it a wee bit; we can beat Germany to pulp."

"You spend too much time around Russia."

Scotland looked at him with cold eyes. "Oh I forgot I didn't used to be a savage or a pirate, I was a proper wee lass who wore dresses and knitted." She responded sarcastically and placed the report down. "I say we go."

"... I have to agree." England said with a sigh. "I just worry that some of us won't make it out alive."  
"I figured last resort comes and I'll start throwing curses about." Scotland said, slowly descending into proper English as she always did around England. "Or use my daggers, I mean not as effective as a gun but less aiming."

England tried to smile but failed to do so. "It's strange the only time we act as brother and sister is when we are fighting in a war."  
"You've really killed the moment." She said pulling out a chair and sitting on it with one elbow propped on the table and the other loosely on the arm. "If you fall, I fall."

He sat on the table, fiddling with a pen. "I suppose so."

"The question is, will this end the war or not?" She asked, clicking her tongue.

"I hope, at the very least it will aid in the end of this war." He sighed.

She raised a slender eyebrow and smirked. "If we win we win, if we don't we don't." She shrugged. "I'll just be happy if I'm able to say I tried."  
"What will they do to us if we lose the war?" England asked, surprised at her calmness.

"Killing us is unlikely, more like use us as their slaves." She shrugged. "... Fuck, I might get forced into marriage."

"It would stop you sleeping with every man you see." England retorted.

"I don't sleep with _every_ man I see." Scotland said, pretending to be hurt. "I have standards."

"Do you Ally, do you really?" He asked, being vaguely pedantic.

"And you wonder why I used to bully you." She said, leaning back on the chair. "Yes Artie, I do, surprisingly enough but at least I have a sex life." She rolled her eyes. "So which beach are you landing on?"

"Sword Beach and yourself?"

"I said I'd have your back." She said. "Wales wouldn't forgive me if I let you get hurt." She shrugged. "After this is all over, I'll buy you a drink."

England rolled his eyes. "Any excuse to get drunk." He picked up his tea and began to sip it.

"I don't need an excuse; it's like you with your tea."

"You like my tea."

"Well I have to; I ain't making my own tea."

He smiled slightly. "Would you really start tossing curses about?" He asked, knowing his sisters dislike for using any of the magic she possessed.

"It's that or I descend to savagery and call forth a spirit of one of the Celtic Rulers or warriors." She cringed a little. "It feels awful though, it's like there's someone else in your mind... well I guess there is but dam it's a disgusting feeling."

"You mention it frequently; I don't see why you don't summon a demon or summon the spirit." England said.

"It's easier to hide my way." She said looking off to the side. "I guess I prefer to rely on my own strength."

England nodded, knowing her hate to rely on others, being far too used to be being the one who was relied upon.

"It seems like only the dead have seen the end of war, you think there'll ever be a time there is no war or conflict?"

"You're acting weird Ally."

"... Oh, this is me trying to ignore the fact I'm about to go onto a battlefield and watch my own men die." She said with a dark expression.

"No, I don't think there will ever be peace worldwide." He answered with a shrug. "Humans are destructive and chaotic, conflict is inevitable."

"And we're not?" She asked. "You're always at odds with France and I'm always pissing someone off or getting hammered with Mexico and Russia."

England looked up to the ceiling. "I guess we're just as bad... but peace would be nice, even for a little while."

"Is that to aid your gentleman front?" She asked, with a half smile.

"At least I have a front." He retorted.

"I have a front; it's just not as fucked up as yours."

"And your front is what, a whore?" He asked.

"Mate, it's being a tolerable person." She smirked. "I don't use much of a front because I don't see the point. I ain't a murderous person but I'm not some woman who loves everybody and knits."  
"No, you're an alcoholic you gets into too many bar fights."

"I could stop drinking if I wanted to."  
"You want to bet on that?"

"I don't want to stop drinking." Scotland said.

He leaned over and whispered something in her ear. "Three years, no alcohol, right?"

"Three years is a long time." She mumbled. "Make it a year."

"Fine, I don't think you'll be able to do that."

"Fuck you, I'll do it."

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**My first perception of Scotland was a person who enjoyed their drink just a little too much and slept around... a little too much. I figured she'd be like England with a colder personality and a tendency to swear, or maybe it's just me who perceives them that way. Well, it looks like I've based her off the Scotland on the fan characters wiki. Not so much with the smoking, I haven't written anything with her smoking in it but to keep up with Stereotypes I might change part of the story so that she smokes when she's stressed. Just a disclaimer, I don't own Hetalia or any other characters other that Scotland... sort of... and I don't recommend smoking or binge drinking.**


	4. Frenchy

**Hey again, the forth chapter. **

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France grumbled to himself as he searched through the cupboards in the plain, small kitchen. He picked up a jar of spices, turning it in his hand trying to figure out what it was exactly due to the lack of a label and weirdness of it.

"It's dried Rosemary and I think it's an herb." Scotland said as she took it from his hands and raised it to the dim light. "I don't know if it's edible anymore..."

"Ah, ma petite, have you decided that the food they serve you is mauvais?" He asked, smiling at her but she only shrugged, putting the herbs down.

"... I'm not really bothered about it." She said. "I tend to make my own."  
"I've never had Scottish food, what's it like?" He asked as he went back to digging through the cupboards.

"Better than English food but not by much..." She said her voice trailing off. "We tend to make other countries food... Well, before the wars anyway." She leant against the counter and sighed.

"What about French food?" He asked, glancing back at her with sky blue eyes.

She snorted. "No, I tend to avoid it." Scotland, tolerated France but still, like her brother had a hate for him. Many years ago, Scotland and France used to be allies and close friends but when she turned from being a Catholic to become a protestant they began to grown apart and then she assisted in the defeat of Napoleon's army... he never really forgave her and she wouldn't forgive him for attacking her younger brothers. To say the least, they were doing their best to remain civil for the sake of the war.

"You should try it some time." He said with a forced smile.

"Might do." She said with a shrug. "Are you comfortable with the plan?" She asked with a questioning look.

"It will get me my country back, I have to be." He said as he began to lay ingredients out on the worn wooden table. "You're controlling your accent." He observed and changed the subject.

"Aye." She said with another shrug. "There are those who won't understand my accent."

He nodded as he began to create a dish of some sorts.

She raised her hand to the iron earring she wore on her left ears cartilage, it was there to ward of faeries, not that she'd admit it to anyone but to the other Kirkland's. She toyed with it for a moment before lowering her hand again. "If we win this, do you think we should give Germany another chance?"

France froze. "That's an interesting question Ally."

"I didn't realise we were back on first name basis, Francis." She said coldly causing him to cringe ever so slightly. She turned to the window to see the rain pelting down creating a hazy barrier that the eye could not penetrate.

He didn't answer for a while before slowly speaking. "I believe he should pay for what he damaged in the war."

"Is that on the basis you just want to make money out of him and his country?" She asked. "Or is it you believe the punishment her received after WW1 led him to WW2?"

He shrugged. "I probably won't have a say in the punishment ma petite." He pulled back his long blonde hair into a ponytail as he set to work boiling something.

"I think you will, your country is probably one of the worst off. I got bombed pretty bad but I know my country can get over it." Scotland looked to the ceiling and her eyes followed the cracks. "I just wish Hitler would cross my path so I can make him beg for forgiveness for every life he has taken and every family he has hurt. Then kill him, since he will find no peace on this earth and he will begin his everlasting torture in the afterlife."

"How many men have you lost to this war?"

"One would be too many." She said with a sigh. "Loss it's just another thing that comes with war."

"You really haven't changed." France mumbled under his breath.

She remained silent for a few moments as toyed with one of the white sashes on her blue military uniform. "You really remember those days?" She asked, unconvinced.

"How could I not remember spending time with my little sister?" He asked, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

"We're the same age you prick, I grew up faster and I would rather face torture than be related to you."

"I'm three months older." He pointed out.

"Wow... three months." She said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, as long as you're comfortable with the plan, I'll take my leave." She turned and began to walk from the kitchen.

"I'm not." He said, surprising both Scotland and himself. "Would you be comfortable with the plan Ally? When it could be your own men you end up fighting?"

"... I guess I wouldn't be like you said before it will free your country, better to shed some blood than leave then in a life under a tyrant." She glanced behind her to him and then pulled out two cigarettes from her breast pocket and offered one to him. "It'll kill the stress."

She lit her own and took a long drag from it before blowing the smoke out up in the air and he took the other one, she held the lighter to the end of the cigarette lighting it for him and she opened a window ever so slightly to let the smoke out before taking another drag.

"I thought you quit smoking, ma fleur." He stated as he watched the pans come to a simmer.

"Nah, I cut back." She said. "England has some obscene theory that smoking was bad for health and America agreed but I don't really care."

"You cared enough to cut back."

"I cut back to stop England from nagging at me." She said. "...Well, I guess I cut back because he was concerned for my health..."

"How about cutting back on your alcohol?" France asked.

She chocked and began to cough. "I've quit for a year." She said between breaths.

"I don't think you'll last that long."

"Whatever." She said before taking a cautious drag. "Are you going to be okay?"

"My heart swells because you care so much." He said with a flirtatious smile and wink. "I see your point but it doesn't sit well."

"... An American Soldier once said what a cruel thing war is: to separate and destroy families and friends, and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in the world; to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbours, and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world." She said. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is the quicker we end this was, the quicker we end this hatred. The world has changed over the many years we have been around but the only thing that hasn't changed is war, right? It's like a civil war, sometimes you're just dragged to one side and you have to fight or face death. These men will only be fighting you because they don't want to be killed, mortals fear death..." She sat on the counter and sighed. "They never realise that death is the only purpose of living. It's just another journey."

"Do we realise that it's the only purpose?" He asked.

"No... I guess not." She gave a slight smile. "Come on you wine drinking bastard, you're being a bloody coward, we fight this battle, we win it and we'll end this war." She held out a hand to him. "For just this once, like old times."  
He took her smaller hand in his and pressed it to his lips. "Just like old times."

She looked over to the pans and laughed. "Hey Frenchy, your pans are boiling over."

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**I was trying to kind of get it across that France and Scotland used to be best friends, don't know if I actually got the across. Anyway thanks for reading.**


	5. Like Totally Poland

**Hey it's been a while but my internet broke, well the internet adapter wireless thing in my laptop broke so I had to get some stuff done with my laptop but then I decided to increase the ram as well and a load of other stuff. So here's the fifth chapter, I really hope I managed to catch Poland right, because I read it over a couple times and I find he sounds a little ooc at times but other's he sounds okay but then Poland doesn't really get all that much screen time so bare with it.**

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If there was one thing she hated, it was the way Poland talked with the constant like's and that so totally, he reminded her of a school girl who's boy friend cheated on her with her best friend. It didn't help that the blonde was walking towards her.

"So Like Ally, long time no see." Poland said as he sat next to her.

"Aye..." Her voice trailed off.

"So like I'm raring to go, I so totally want to get my country back." He said.

"Aye..."

"What happens if they like see us coming though, it would be like totally bad." He bit his finger in worry, trying to think of a plan but... not coming up with anything... which was to be expected of Poland.

"We'll shove you in a dress and make you do the can-can." Ally said with a smirk.

"That's like so not funny and you're a girl, why can't you do that?" He asked, glaring at her but she just chuckled.

"I was being sarcastic." She ruffled his hair. "Are you really that gullible Felix?" She asked, not expecting an answer and not listening for one.

"It's like such a bummer though, Leit isn't here..." He let out a long sigh. "Hey, like Ally, have you like finally started dating someone?"

She rolled her eyes at the annoying blonde muttering air head. "No, why would I want to do that?"

"Like why not?"

"Since _like_ having sex _like_ with _like_ no commitment is _like_ way easier." She said rolling her eyes. "I haven't been in a serious commitment for... I can't remember how long ago."

"You like dated someone?" He asked, surprised.

"It was called courting back then and aye..." Ally stopped talking and looked at Felix. "Still going to paint your house pink?"

"It would be like so totally cool, why don't you like give your house a paint?" Felix asked.

"I really don't want to."

"I could like do it for you."

"Aye... that's never happening."

"Why not?" He looked up at her with hurt green eyes but she just grunted.

"Jeez... you're worse then what Alfred was as a wee bairn. We're about to fight a battle kid, you've got to get your head out of the clouds and down to earth... even if that's almost impossible." She lifted her hand, hesitated but ruffled his blonde hair. "... Just think if we win this battle it's one more step towards reclaiming your home, securing the safety of my people and to stop this god forsaken war."

"So like, we have to win?" He asked. "We can so totally do that."

"Aye pretty much, we win we're on the home run... Jeez, I've been spending too much time with Alfred." She lit another cigarette, a little disgusted with herself but she honestly didn't care, she needed to calm down.

"... Do you think we can win?" Poland squeaked out.

She shrugged, taking a long drag. "That's what I keep telling myself. They won't kill us if we lose Felix; we're way too valuable to them, at worst we'll be locked up in a prison somewhere."

"... I think death sounds better... I like don't do small, cramped dark spaces, they like weird me out." He let out a sigh. "What's with this war anyway?"

She flicked the cigarette and watched the ash fall to the ground. "The hunger plan, Hitler wants to expand his territories so that they have more room to farm as their farming techniques are pretty pitiful. They plan to starve millions, those who once lived on the land they have or will take over and work them to death." She shrugged. "You know, I knew Germany before all this." She took a long drag. "Never thought he'd go along with something like this."

"He's... starving and killing my people..." Felix's voice began to shake ever so slightly as he tried to digest what he was being told.

"Not Germany... Hitler. I really doubt Germany had a choice in the matter but... I thought he might have had the guts to stand up to Hitler, or maybe even Prussia." She flicked the cigarette again. "They're all weak willed, unable to solve their own problems without needless violence. They didn't want to enter trade like England did to help sustain itself and they didn't want to change how they farmed." The cigarette snapped in two in her hand and she dropped it to the floor with a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down. "So they kill millions of innocent people... Even I wasn't capable of that... when I was a savage or a barbarian..."

"Prussia is kinda ruthless." Felix offered in a tired voice.

"It takes insanity to do what Hitler is doing and crazy bastards to follow him. Then those bastards hurt and kill anybody who dares to talk sense and then everybody else is afraid..." Ally sighed, moving a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "Back when I was a Celt, I used to do fucked up things... I was sadistic... but looking at what Hitler is doing, what I did was child's play. I wouldn't strike a civilian or hurt a child... I didn't care who you were or where you came from, if you were my enemy I would kill you and if you weren't, then I'd leave you the hell alone."

"... While Hitler is slaughtering masses of people, kids, women, anyone that stands in his ways, that's useless to him or has a certain religious view. Damn, this is a bummer..." Felix said standing and stretching. "I think I'm scared..."

"You and me both." She smirked. "I just have a fucked up way of showing it."

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**Hope you enjoyed reading it and I'm really sorry to have made you all wait. It's sad but I'm pleased that my story has reached just over 200 views and has a couple follows, so thanks guys. It's nice to know a few people are reading it.**


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